Push
by shelllessturtle
Summary: To push is to accomplish by thrusting obstacles aside. When Aaron blames himself for the outcome of a case, Emiy must force him to see reason. Hotch/Emily, spoilers for 4x18, "Omnivore". Rated T because "swearing like a theatre technician" really should be a thing. Sequel to "Realize", "Claim", and "Comfort".


A/N: So I had quite the semester. Without getting into the gory details, let's just say that it included stage-managing two plays, reading nearly a hundred pages every night, and breaking the same way I did when two of my Bigs showed me _Repo: The Genetic Opera_, _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_, and _The Devil's Carnival_ in two weeks. Yeah, it was bad.

But I'm back now, and I have this for you! Originally, I was planning on it being angst and angry and shout-y, but…well, you'll see. Thanks, as always, to my lovely Neenie for the snap-beta, and to my parents for getting me seasons 5, 6, and 7 on DVD so I can actually finish this universe!

Disclaimer: The only things I own having to do with Criminal Minds are some DVDs and a huge crush on Paget Brewster.

* * *

She watched Aaron on the plane ride home, watched his interaction with Morgan, telling the other man to let it go, watched carefully as he moved to sit by himself, watched his subtle body language she was becoming so much better at reading, and realized what was happening. He was blaming himself.

Rossi had told her what had happened after the bus incident, and she had hoped that that would actually shake Aaron out of his spiral of self-blame, but it looked like it didn't. She met Rossi's eyes across the plane, and the other man nodded ever so slightly. It was going to be up to her to shake Aaron out of this.

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As the news of Foyet's escape sunk in, her eyes shot immediately to Aaron. She watched his fists clench and his jaw tighten at Morgan's words, and knew what was coming next. He handed the paper he was holding back to Reid and retreated to his office. When the door closed a little too hard, she massaged her temples with one hand, counting silently to ten, then followed him.

Aaron was standing behind his desk, leaning on his hands, head bowed. For a moment, she was at a loss for words, but then she realized that all she needed to do was reassure him. "Aaron," she said softly.

His head jerked up, and he looked surprised. Hadn't he heard her shut the door?

"What is it, Prentiss?"

She tried hard not to flinch at his use of her last name. It was their quiet code of saying when they had to be professional. It hurt a little that he was trying to shut her out, but he wouldn't be the man she loved if he didn't think he could deal with his problems on his own. She would be damned, though, if she let him push her away tonight.

"Aaron," she said firmly, "this isn't your fault."

"I don't think it is, Prentiss," he replied, trying to continue their war of professional versus personal.

"Then what's with the storming off and slamming doors?" she demanded.

"I didn't storm anywhere or slam anything," he replied. She could tell he was forcing himself to remain calm, but whether it was to prevent a blow-up or a break-down, she didn't know.

"Do I need to break into the surveillance tapes?" she asked. Getting snarky with him probably wouldn't help anything, but if he was going to push, she was willing to push right back.

"I don't think this is my fault," he repeated firmly, his fists tightening until his knuckles turned white.

"Don't lie to me, Aaron!" she snapped, a little more harshly than she had intended. "You have 'I screwed up' written all over your face."

He broke then, collapsing into his chair and burying his face in his hands. She was at his side in seconds, arms wrapped around him, one hand tangled in his hair.

"We should have been able to stop this," he said, voice muffled slightly by his hands. "We said that he had been planning for fifteen years. We should have realized that he would have planned for getting caught, should have had him sent out of state."

"We did everything we could, honey," she murmured. "We followed procedure, we told them everything they needed to know. Clean-up is not our job." She began running her free hand up and down his back, soothing him the way he soothed her after her nightmares. "And he's going to run. He's not going to do anything high-profile right now."

"How do you know that?" Aaron asked. "What if he comes after Morgan, to finish what he started? What if he decides that I'm the one he wants? What if-oh God-what if he goes after Jack and Haley?"

"Stop it," she commanded. "Stop it right now. You're going to be no good to anyone if you start going crazy with worry. We have his profile. We know what he wants. Right now, there's going to be enough media coverage to satisfy him for the time being. He won't strike again until he thinks that people are forgetting about him. If we use that time wisely, we'll be three steps ahead of him before he shows his face."

Aaron turned in her embrace and wrapped his arms around her. "What would I do without you?" he asked.

"Get kicked in the ass a couple more times by Rossi before you saw some sense," she replied, allowing her smile to seep into her voice.

Aaron stood up so they could hold each other more comfortably. "Come home with me tonight," he said quietly. She jolted with surprise in his arms. "Please, Emily. I want-I want tonight to be something...something new. Something special. I want to let you in the way you've let me in."

There was nothing powerful enough to say in response to that, so she nodded, and they left his office together.

The bullpen had been deserted while they had been in Hotch's office, though there was still someone in Rossi's office, and Morgan had left his desk lamp on, so he was probably still around somewhere. When they knew that no one would see them, Aaron wrapped his hand around hers and pulled her closer to him, holding her in a place she hoped she would keep as long as possible.

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Aaron had mastered the art of keeping constant contact. For the whole car ride, whether he had his fingers twined through hers, or just had his elbow brushing against her arm, he never stopped touching her. It felt almost as if he had to keep reassuring himself that she was still there, still with him.

He was nervous, she knew. She could read it in his every movement. Truth be told, she was a little nervous, too. Even after everything they had shared, all the boundaries they had pushed past, all the lines they had crossed, it felt like this was what would finally make it all real. Aaron Hotchner, the closely-guarded, closed-off control freak of a unit chief for the BAU, was letting her completely into his life, letting her comfort him, take care of him the way he comforted and took care of her. He was letting his guard down, letting his control go, and she knew how hard it was for him.

He put his car into park in the parking garage attached to his building and scooped up her hand once more. "Emily," he whispered, drawing her eyes to his face. In that moment, he was more open and vulnerable than she had ever seen him.

"Aaron," she whispered back, and leaned over to kiss him. She tried to put everything into this kiss, her love of him, her hope for the future, her faith that they could push past any obstacle and come out on the other side whole and together and perhaps even better for it.

**~To Be Continued in "Hold"~**


End file.
